


The Most Exclusive Club in Town

by pocky_slash



Category: West Wing
Genre: Drinking & Talking, Gay Rights, M/M, Politics, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-05-01
Updated: 2009-05-01
Packaged: 2017-11-14 18:55:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/518453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pocky_slash/pseuds/pocky_slash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At the end of his first week in office, Matt Skinner drags Will along to an unconventional meeting of unlikely friends.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Most Exclusive Club in Town

**Author's Note:**

> Um, wow. I have been tremendously blocked with this story, and cannot thank [](http://inocciduous.livejournal.com/profile)[**inocciduous**](http://inocciduous.livejournal.com/) and [](http://scrollgirl.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://scrollgirl.livejournal.com/)**scrollgirl** enough for their last minute help. Seriously. All of the love and affection in the world for those ladies.
> 
> Reps. Frost and Benoit are actual canon characters from TWW. Frost never gets screen time and Benoit never gets a first name, so I've had fun filling in the blanks. Unlike most of my Sam/Will stories, this one actually follows canon right through the end of the show. Sort of.

It wasn't that Will didn't believe Sam when he said the hardest part of being a Congressman wasn't passing laws, but dealing with the office. No, he had believed Sam, he just hadn't realized exactly how bad it could actually get. Of course, he doubted that Sam had to deal with his Office Manager quitting after a fight with his Chief of Staff. At least, not in the first week.

"Knock knock."

Will glanced up at the doorway, startled to see Matt Skinner leaning against the empty door frame, holding his briefcase.

"I didn't mean to surprise you," Matt said. "But you don't have an actual door."

"It's a long story," Will muttered, taking off his glasses and rubbing his eyes. "There was a fight, my Office Manager quit, he broke the door on his way out, and now I'm stuck trying to figure out how to order paper for the copier." He sighed. His head was aching and he really, _really_ wanted to go home and see Sam. "Do you want anything?"

"Just to see how you're doing." Will replaced his glasses when he heard Matt's footsteps approaching Simon's desk. Well, what used to be Simon's desk.

"I've been better," Will said. "I'm going to need a new Office Manager. Either that, or I'm going to have to start breaking into other offices at night and stealing their supplies."

"Andrea Wyatt keeps her doors unlocked," Matt said. "However, I'm guessing that working with her ex-husband for several years will have conditioned you against taking advantage of her kind heart."

Will nodded absently and studied Matt for a moment. He didn't really know him, save for a few brief conversations when Will was working for Bartlet and a cursory introduction when he and Sam bumped into Matt and his boyfriend in the grocery store one night. He knew that Matt had started working as an aide around the time that Sam had started his first summer internship on the Hill. Matt, Josh, Sam, and some other, long forgotten aides and interns had made quite a name for themselves, though Will could never get Sam to tell him what, exactly, that entailed.

He also knew that Matt was a Republican and, though moderate, mostly hated everything Will stood for and vice-versa.

He wasn't quite sure what Matt wanted from him.

"Don't take this the wrong way, Matt," Will said. "But what do you want?"

"To ask you out for a drink, actually," Matt said.

Will held up his left hand.

"I'm married now," he said, and tried not to beam embarrassingly as he said it. He and Sam had been married for about nine months and it was something he thought he'd never get used to. Of course, if the fringe groups in Oregon that managed to muster enough support to turn over the ruling in favor of marriage had their way, he might not have all that much longer to try and get used to it, either.

"I know," Matt said. "I sent you a blender."

"I just like saying it," Will said. And, by god, he was going to try and say it as often as he could in the little time he had left.

"Your marriage has made you eligible for the most exclusive club in town," Matt continued, leaning against the edge of Simon's desk, a mirth in his eyes that was starting to freak Will out.

"Considering the city we live in, that's a pretty hefty statement, Matt," Will said slowly.

"Well, we don't let just anyone into the Gay Caucus," Matt said. That brought Will pause. It was certainly not what Will had been expecting, not that he was entirely sure what he was expecting in the first place.

"The Gay Caucus?" he said slowly. "Aren't there like, twenty people in that? And don't you just have to ask to get in?"

"That's the LGBTQ Caucus," Matt said. He straightened up again, smirking. "This is the Gay Caucus. Or, well, actually, now it's the Queer Caucus. Diane made us change the name."

Things were slowly coming together. "Diane... Frost?" Will asked.

"Yeah," Matt said. He rolled his eyes spectacularly. "I have no idea how that woman got elected and stays elected."

Diane Frost was an incredibly poised and influential Congresswoman. She was also a lesbian, an outspoken activist, and so far left that she was practically a hippie. She was emphatically _not_ the type of person that Will could imagine spending an afternoon with Matt Skinner.

"I'm still not following," Will said.

"Once a month, the gays in the House put aside their political differences and meet for a commiserating drink," Matt explained.

"So, we're talking about..." Will wracked his brain. "You, Diane, and..." He tried to remember the name of the guy who had introduced the bill nullifying the marriages of everyone who worked for the federal government. "Paul Benoit?"

"Yep," Matt said. He was enjoying himself entirely too much. Of course, Will supposed, it wasn't as though he got to play this game very often. Or ever. The last homosexual to be elected to the House before Will was... well, Matt.

"You all hate each other," Will said.

"Yep," Matt said. "This meeting is basically the only thing we've ever agreed on. Oh, and sports. Paul's from New Jersey. He understands that the Yankees will always be superior to the Sox, curse or no curse."

Will rubbed his forehead. Even after having it explained to him, it still wasn't making much sense. "So, wait. Once a month you all go out and talk about... being gay?"

"Sort of," Matt said. "Paul talks about his kids a lot. Anyway, get your coat. I told them I'd pick you up."

"I don't have a car," Will protested, unsure as to why he needed to keep coming up with excuses. "Sam wanted to go buy a bookshelf today, so I--"

Matt sighed. "I'll drive you home," he said. "Just get your coat. Diane gets annoyed when I keep her waiting. Of course, Diane is annoyed by my very existence, so that doesn't mean much."

Will grabbed his coat and his bags and let himself be herded out the door and down to Matt's car, mostly because he was too exhausted to protest. He wasn't sure how he felt about being forced to attend a meeting of the token gays, but a drink sounded wonderful, even if it meant putting off going home to Sam for another hour.

Matt navigated the car through the streets and into Georgetown, parking and then pulling Will out and leading him down the sidewalk with the same haste.

"Seriously," he said, "Diane Frost is a lunatic. We do not want to piss her off."

"I like Diane," Will said, thinking back to throwing around names for a possible Vice President with the rest of the Bartlet senior staff. He wondered if his life would have been different if he had been able to convince Toby and Josh that Diane Frost was electable.

"She's practically a communist," Matt said.

"What, because she supports universal health care?" Will asked.

"Among other things."

Matt pushed open the door to a run-down looking Irish pub that Will had never noticed before. The clientele seemed to consist of mostly older men at the bar and some middle-aged couples in booths towards the front of the pub. Matt led the way past them, to a table in the back corner. Diane Frost and Paul Benoit were already sitting down, each with a drink. There was a bowl of nuts between them.

"Hi guys," Matt said as they approached. "I found him. He was still in his office."

"It's the last day of his first week in office," Paul said. "Where the hell else was he going to be?" Paul held his hand out to Will. "Nice to see you, Will."

"Yeah," Will said. "Likewise." He shook Diane's hand, too, though she was glaring at Matt.

"You're late," she said.

"I had to convince him to come," Matt said as he sat down, rolling his eyes. "He was skeptical."

"You were, too," Paul said, as a waitress appeared at their table for their drink orders.

"That's because I thought you were playing a trick on me," Matt said. "I'm still not entirely convinced you're not."

"You know me," Paul said. "I'm too lazy to work this many years on a practical joke."

"And I'm not actually cruel, unlike some people," Diane said.

Will draped his jacket over the back of his chair. Diane and Matt looked less than pleased to see each other, but Paul was smiling wryly, sipping his drink and tossing nuts into his mouth one at a time.

"They hate each other," he said to Will conversationally, without trying to hide his amusement in the least. Will didn't know Paul very well, but he was getting the impression that Paul was the quiet kid in the back of class who seemed non-threatening and then, bam, one day tried to pass legislation to dissolve the marriages of everyone working for the federal government.

"I noticed they weren't getting along, yeah," Will said. The waitress reappeared with beers for him and Matt and a refill of whatever it was that Paul and Diane were drinking.

"We can hear you," Matt said lightly.

"Well, yeah," Will said. "It's a small table, and I'm honored that I was invited to come and listen to you two snip at each other."

"I still don't even know how you're invited to be a part of this group," Diane muttered to Matt. Matt smiled a little too cheerfully.

"I still don't even know how you were elected, so I guess we're even," he said.

"If you hate each other so much, why bother with getting together once a month?" Will asked, taking a sip of his drink and watching the wary look Diane was still giving Matt.

"She'll warm up to me," Matt assured him. "Maybe. Someday. When hell freezes over."

"This is supposed to be about solidarity," Paul said. "That's why Matt's invited. But that doesn't mean we agree with his bullshit, self-hating policies."

Matt sighed. Will felt bad for him, for a moment. Yes, his ideas on... well, basically everything went against all that Will held dear, but it had to be hard to be the only Republican at the table, especially when discussing an issue that effected them all so closely.

Then he remembered waking up on election day to find that he may not be married for much longer and he was back to being angry all over again.

"How many times do I have to say it?" Matt asked. "I should just get it tattooed on my forehead specifically for you guys. I'm not against gay marriage. I don't hate myself, I don't hate you guys--most of the time--and I certainly don't hate Tony. What I do hate is the idea of the federal government dictating what's right for the people. This is a local issue. The states should decide for themselves, not hand down an edict from Washington that may not be the right fit for their citizens!"

"Well, thanks to thinking like _that_ , two of your friends are losing the marriage rights they already had in Oregon!" Diane said.

Will shifted and cleared his throat. While he agreed with Diane in theory, he didn't like being pulled into the argument. Marriage had been a touchy subject for him even before he and Sam had gotten married. He was thrilled when he heard about the initial ruling, but it wasn't long until his reservations kicked in. Marriage felt like a huge, unwieldy concept. He couldn't quite get his head around it, couldn't picture himself going around wearing a ring that proclaimed that his relationship with Sam for the world to see. It had already been four years since he and Sam had come out as a couple in the first place and he still wasn't entirely used to it.

"Hey, Diane, don't drag us into this," he said, rubbing the back of his head and taking a long drink from his beer. Matt raised his eyebrows, but said nothing.

"Don't tell me you actually agree with his asinine tactics?" Diane said. She turned to look at him and pinned him down with a glare that was sharper than even his father's.

"Of course not," Will said. "It's a completely flawed approach that doesn't factor in equality or the evolution of civil rights. But I don't want Sam and me dragged into the middle of it."

"Sometimes it's best to personalize things," Paul said calmly, picking through the bowl of nuts on the table.

"Sure, but that's a cheap trick," Will said. "Matt and Sam have been friends since college. I think Matt's position is naive and idiotic--no personal offense, Matt--but I don't want my relationship with Sam to be used to make him feel guilty just because he likes Sam. There are a dozen other ways to do that without bringing Sam into it at all."

Diane rolled her eyes. "If you're so noble and self-sacrificing, why did you go on national television the day after the election and tell everyone they were bigots?"

"That's different," Will insisted. "That was... well, first of all, it wasn't my fault." And it wasn't his fault. It was CJ's. Or Sam's. It was possible that CJ and Sam had the idea at the exact same time, in fact. He wouldn't put a mind-meld past two of the founding members of the Bartlet Fab Four. During his brief time in Washington and his even briefer time as a Congressman, Sam had been on _The Daily Show_ a total of six times. He was, apparently, just as charming to the staff there as he was to everyone else he met and rumor was he was one of Jon Stewart's favorite political guests and had an open invitation to come back whenever he wanted. The only person in the Bartlet administration they had liked half as much was CJ, who apparently bribed them with alcohol and muffins whenever she visited.

After Will spent the morning spitting invectives at anyone who would stand still long enough to hear them, including several items of furniture, Sam made a phone call and then another and before he could make a third, CJ beat him to the punch. She was supposed to do some post-election analysis that night. Wouldn't it be brilliant to have Will take her place?

That was, apparently, exactly what Sam was trying to set up.

It wasn't his most polished hour. For one thing, Jon Stewart is sharper than most politicians give him credit for. Still, it was probably Will at his most honest. He knew that he wasn't going to win over his own brand new constituents by making some of the statements he was making and he'd probably send some people who had voted for him running back to the Republican party. He found that once he accepted that, it was incredibly easy to go on teevee and tell millions of Americans that yes, he disagreed vehemently with the ruling and yes, he thought it was incredibly unfair. That he was hurt and angry and didn't understand why other people got to make decisions about how he felt about his husband, about what their relationship meant.

"If I want to personalize my situation, that's up to me," Will continued. "It's my relationship, and I was talking about my feelings. If you want to talk about you, that's one thing, but don't pull my personal life into it to prove _your_ point." He was still being more than a little hypocritical, but if they were going to spend the night calling each other on every partially untrue thing they said, they'd never leave.

Matt, meanwhile, looked as though he was going to start laughing at any second. "You're really nothing like Josh Lyman, you know that?" he said.

"That's the nicest thing you've ever said to me," WIll said dryly, though he could feel his muscles tensing involuntarily. Dammit. One of these days he was going to get over this petty rivalry with Josh Lyman. Any day now, really.

"You're still pissed at Josh?" Matt asked. He still looked like he was going to crack up. Will suddenly found himself agreeing with Diane--Matt was clearly a petty jerk who should be kicked out of Congress. "You know it's been years, right?"

"Years since he slept with my husband or years since he destroyed my Presidential campaign?" Will asked.

"Both," Matt said. "Seriously. Josh can be an arrogant asshole, but he's also a really good guy."

"It's possible some of my anger is misdirected," Will admitted.

"Funny that you won't let us wallow in our misdirected anger at Matt, then," Paul said. It was hard to tell if he was joking.

"Well, Matt never slept with my husband," Will said. It was probably safer to treat it as a joke. He turned to Matt and, in an exaggerated whisper, added, "You've never slept with my husband, right?"

"And unlike nearly everyone else in Washington, I never wanted to," Matt assured him.

"Not everyone in Washington," Will insisted, though he knew it wasn't far from the truth. Sam broke hearts wherever he went. It was the price of being charismatic, attractive, approachable, and determined to save the world. Of course, now he could add "unavailable" to that list.

He smiled to himself and unconsciously twisted the ring on his finger.

"Everyone in Washington," Paul said. "Many people in other places as well, especially right after the shooting when he was on all the morning shows every day for a week."

"And in all the papers," Matt added.

"Yes, I get it, thanks," Will said.

"You were good on teevee, too," Paul said. "I think you expressed what a lot of us were feeling that day."

"I got a lot of mail because of it," Will admitted. He scratched at a stain on the tabletop with his thumbnail. "Good and bad. The regular batch of, 'I can't believe I voted for you, you pervert!' sort of things, but some nice letters from kids and a few surprising ones from celebrities." He suppressed a sigh. He had actually been trying not to think about his television appearance if he could help it. As stressful as his job already was, he wasn't looking forward to running again in a year and a half and losing for something that happened before he even took office. "At least that will comfort me when I'm unemployed in a year and a half."

"It can't be that bad," Paul said. "You live in Oregon for god's sake."

"Yeah, but in probably the most conservative district in the state," Will said. "Somehow, every Republican in Oregon converged on the 4th district. I won by the skin of my teeth, and that was before I went on national television and called them all bigots."

"Nothing a little gerrymandering can't fix," Matt said.

"Spoken like a true Republican," Diane muttered.

"Did a Republican run over your dog or something?" Matt asked. "I mean, seriously, Diane, did a Republican burn down your house and give you herpes?"

"No!" Diane snapped. "But your entire party is keeping me from marrying the person I want to and making it increasingly hard for me to adopt children, be protected from discrimination, and share benefits with my partner!"

"It's not my party!" Matt insisted. "It's the American people. We're not inhumane lunatic zealots. We're trying to put the power into the hands of our constituents, where it belongs. Obviously the people in this country aren't ready for these kinds of sweeping social changes!"

"I don't know about that," Will said, leaning back and resting his beer on his knee. "Oregon was overturned, yeah, but it's going back to the courts. Three more states have legalized gay marriage since November. I think the people are ready. I think it's the politicians who aren't ready yet."

Diane nodded and relaxed slightly. Will had met her a handful of times before and she had never been quite this stressed or angry. Intense and frustrated, yes, but not like this. He wondered what was going on and if she really just hated Matt that much. He couldn't see why. She was a reasonable woman and she had to see that Matt was a good guy, once you got past the hardened conservative exterior.

"Will's right," she said. "I've heard rumblings of something happening in DC, too. I think they're going to try and get a law that would recognize gay marriages in other states within the District. You and Tony could get married somewhere else and have it recognized here, Matt."

It was Matt's turn to twitch uncomfortably and fiddle with his beer.

"What makes you think I want to get married?" Matt asked. "I don't even know how I feel about it."

"Is it that you don't know or that you don't know how your constituents would feel about it?" Paul asked.

"There is such a thing as cold feet, Paul," Matt said.

"I'm just saying," Paul said, "now that Chatam won the gubernatorial race and the New York legislature is controlled by us again, I've heard they're going to reintroduce the gay marriage bill. If they pass it, what are you going to do?"

"Whether or not I get married has little bearing on how I can best represent what my district needs in Washington," Matt said, rubbing his forehead. "It's a personal decision between me and Tony and one that we're going to discuss when it's right for us."

"Regardless of what your constituents think," Diane said flatly. Will could tell by the look on her face that she didn't believe that for a second.

"I still don't understand how a district in a fairly liberal state that elected an out, gay congressman can be opposed to gay marriage," Will said, blinking at Matt.

"It helps that my dad was governor, probably," Matt said. "They would have elected me to anything as long as he kept showing up at my campaign stops."

"I know how that is," Will muttered.

"But the point is," Matt continued, "they elected me. Regardless of how or why, it's now my duty to represent their needs and wants and to make sure their voices don't get lost. I can't choose to ignore them because or something I may or may not want for myself. That's not my job."

"But don't you agree," Diane said, leaning across the table, "that it's up to us as elected leaders to do what's best and fair for all of them? To make sure that _everyone's_ voice is heard, not just the majority? To especially speak up for the minority that's being persecuted?"

"I don't agree!" Matt shot back. "And it's presumptuous of you to think that I do! I can't do everything that everyone wants, Diane. None of us can. You need to speak for the greatest amount of people in order to do the most good."

Will shook his head. "No, no no. That's incredibly flawed as well. You're basically allowing one group to demonize another unchecked. It's like those parents who won't punish their kids, no matter how much trouble they're causing and what they're doing wrong."

"You're just trying to stay in their good graces to get re-elected," Diane said. "If you keep focusing on reelection and not doing good, there's no point in being elected because you'll never get anything done."

"I get a lot done, Diane, and I resent being told that I'm not doing good! Gay marriage isn't the only issue, you know. There are dozens of things that I'm working on any given day that have nothing to do with gay marriage! Just because you disagree with me on one topic doesn't mean I'm the devil incarnate."

Will could see this becoming a fist fight very easily. Diane was positively shaking and Matt was going to break his bottle if he held onto it any tighter. He could feel the frustration pouring off of them, though he wondered what was really inspiring it. Was Diane mad at Matt or at the citizens of the country for still holding her back? Was Matt angry at Diane or at himself for getting into this argument again and again?

"I think what Diane is trying to say," Will said as calmly and evenly as he could manage, "is that listening to the people constantly isn't the answer, either. People are resistant to change. They're not always going to want to do the right thing."

"So we're supposed to ignore the people who elected us?" Matt asked. "That's not democracy, Will. They'll learn over time. We need to support them until then."

"Even when they're wrong?" Diane said.

"Who are we to judge what's right and wrong?" Matt asked.

"The guys who can't get married, fight for our country, or sit by our partners in the hospital," Paul said sharply. Seconds ticked by, tempers still running high, until finally, one by one, they began to relax into the silence.

The silence dragged on. Will finished his beer and accepted another when the waitress came around. Paul fooled around with his Blackberry. Matt and Diane stared long and hard into the bottom of their glasses.

"Paul," Matt finally said, "how are Tim and Jeannie?"

"Great," Paul said, looking up with a grin. "They're great. Jean's got a piano recital coming up in about two weeks and Ron and I are pretty confident he's going to take first prize. Tim wants to play baseball this spring instead of soccer, much to my delight and Ron's disappointment. Well, t-ball, I guess. I don't think they throw pitches at five year olds." He pressed a few buttons on his phone and held it out for the rest of them to see. It was displaying a picture of two smiling, dark haired children.

"Baseball's a good choice," Matt said. "Don't let Ron convince you otherwise. Soccer is senseless."

"I don't know," Will said. "I played a lot growing up. I always had fun, even though it can get brutal."

"That's because you grew up in Europe," Paul said. "No self-respecting kid in America should grow up playing soccer."

"God, Paul," Diane said. "I hope you didn't say that to Timmy. You shouldn't pressure him into playing a sport he doesn't want to play."

"Of course I didn't say it to him," Paul said. "I say it to Ron a few times a day, though. One day he'll learn," he muttered to himself, shaking his head. Glancing back up, he said, "What about you, Diane? How's Lillian?"

Diane immediately glanced back down at her glass. "Lillian left me," she said.

"Oh god," Matt said. "I'm sorry."

"I told you, Diane, you're too good for that woman," Paul said. "Really, you're better off without her."

Diane obviously didn't seem to think so, and Will had a feeling the conversation would have fallen into another lull if she hadn't turned to him and forced a painful looking smile.

"Are you settling in okay, Will?" she asked.

Taking her cue, Matt added, "Yeah, how's Sam?"

"Sam's good," Will said. "He's working on another book and it's starting to drive him crazy. He needs a real job. I mean, we don't need the money, but if he doesn't start getting out of the apartment on a regular basis again, I think he'll snap. So, you know, home is just as stressful as the office, though nothing can really top today."

"Oh, wow, you guys will like this," Matt said. He elbowed Will. "Tell them about the cat fight in your office this morning."

Will looked around the table at the wry, curious faces of his colleagues, not entirely sure when the evening turned from a policy debate into a social dinner. Still, he was exhausted, and if he didn't keep laughing about Simon's epic departure, he was afraid he'd be back to banging his head against the table.

"Okay," he said. "Well, I guess to start, you need to know exactly how much my former Office Manager hated my Chief of Staff..."

Will's story faded into a story about Paul's interns. Diane talked about her former secretary's obsession with cats. By the time Matt was trading some stories about being trapped in a car with the Minority Leader, it was starting to get late. They began to check cellphones and watches and before long they were paying their tab and parting ways.

Will waved good night to Paul and Diane as they crossed the street and then turned back to Matt, who was still making good on his promise to give Will a ride home.

"Is that what you do every month?" Will asked. "Argue in circles about gay marriage for an hour?"

"Not every month," Matt said. "Sometimes we talk about adoption or hate crimes legislation."

"Isn't this the sort of thing that we should be fighting against?" Will asked, kicking a stick on the sidewalk out of his way. "That all gays think alike, that we can all be painted with the same brush, that we're only comfortable hanging out with other fags?"

"Maybe," Matt said. "But, honestly? Sometimes I feel like Paul and Diane are the only people in Congress I can be candid with. Sure, they think I'm the anti-christ, but they don't attribute everything I say to all homosexuals that have ever and will ever live. They're probably the only people in politics who I spend time with on a regular basis who don't automatically add 'the gay one' to my title."

"In order to not be thought of as merely gay, you need to spend time with the gays," Will said. "Ironic." He shook his head, but didn't say anything else as they headed down the sidewalk, back towards Matt's car. He didn't know what was more surprising--that Diane, Paul, and Matt tolerated each other long enough to have these headache inducing dinners or that Will had actually enjoyed himself.

"Hey, listen, about marriage," Will said.

"Will," Matt interrupted, "seriously, I'm done arguing for the night."

"No, that's not--" Will laughed. "I'm not talking about it as an issue. I just wanted to say... I get where you're coming from. I was thrilled when marriage was legalized in Oregon, but I was just as terrified because I knew that meant, politically, that I should avail myself of it as soon as possible and I didn't know--" He shoved his hands in his pockets and looked across the streets. It was hard to articulate what had gone through his head in those first few weeks. "I never thought I'd have a chance to get married, so it wasn't something I thought about often. Then, wow, there it was and I had Sam and I just... I was scared, I guess. Suspicious. Afraid that giving this a name would somehow make it more complicated than it already was."

He blew out a long breath and turned back to Matt, offering him a small smile. "Scared," he said again. "I was utterly scared. Sam didn't get it, though, and there were a few tense days until my Dad called and... well, I'm trying to think of a way to phrase this so that it doesn't sound as bad as it's going to sound, but he basically dared me to get married."

"He dared you?" Matt asked. He snorted.

"In a manner of speaking," Will said. "But, hey, it helped me conquer my fear. So I get that. Politics aside, I get why you're not sure what to do. But I know you and Tony have been together for a long time, longer than me and Sam, and I guess I just want to tell you that it's okay to be scared, but I swear that whole nerve-wracking process filled with second thoughts and doubts is absolutely worth it in the end."

Matt gave him a half smile. "Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Thanks, man. That's good to know."

They walked the rest of the way back to the car in silence, and once they climbed in, Matt flipped on a basketball game that got them to Will's apartment.

After pulling his bags out from the backseat, Will stood at the curb, bending a little to peer into the car. "Hey, you and Tony should come by for dinner sometime. I think Sam'd like to see you."

"No politics," Matt warned.

"No politics," Will agreed. He paused, then reconsidered. "Well, a little politics, maybe. This is Sam we're talking about, and he's been spending his days alone in the apartment, so by dinner time he might be a little stir-crazy."

"Well, I might be able to make an exception for Sam, what with him being an old friend," Matt said.

"I knew you were lying when you said you never wanted to sleep with him," Will said, jabbing his finger through the open passenger window. "I'm on to you, Skinner."

"I'll see you around," Matt said with one last laugh as he rolled up his car window and drove down the street.

Will watched him go. Aside from Matt's connection to Sam, there was absolutely no reason for them to be friends. They had spent the whole night arguing. Still, Will felt like he had been himself for the first time in weeks, like he'd shed some outer layer that he didn't even know he wore. Like he'd exercised a part of himself that didn't get much use.

Sam was sitting on the couch watching a cooking show when he opened the door.

"How was your day?" he asked without looking up. "Or should I even ask?"

"It was... pretty good," Will said. He leaned over and kissed Sam on the forehead, toeing off his shoes and dropping his bags unceremoniously to the floor. "The day itself sucked, but I just had a really interesting... I don't even know what it was. How was your day?"

"I threw both volumes of the OED out the window," he muttered. He gestured towards the radiator, where the two weathered books were looking damp and even more weathered than usual. "They're drying."

Will shed his suit jacket and his coat as well and climbed onto the couch, shaking his head.

"Let me tell you a story about my day, then," he said. "You will not believe how I spent the night..."


End file.
